


In the Old Ways

by darlingred1



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Mild Sexual Content, Other, Pets, Post-Venom (Movie 2018), Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 22:49:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16564619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingred1/pseuds/darlingred1
Summary: It took some getting used to, Eddie’s after-Venom life.(Basically a selection of slices of Eddie and Venom's life, post-movie.)





	In the Old Ways

> Love comes quietly,  
>  finally, drops  
>  about me, on me,  
>  in the old ways.
> 
> What did I know  
>  thinking myself  
>  able to go  
>  alone all the way.
> 
> —Robert Creeley 

It took some getting used to, Eddie’s after-Venom life.

Sure, some parts were great. The companionship, the new livable salary, the friendliness between him and Anne, how terrified all of his neighbors had become of him.

Other parts, well, not so much. The utter lack of privacy, the number of meals accompanied by a litany of derisive comments, how he tended to come across as a poorly medicated schizophrenic in public.

He’d started making weekly trips to the nearest pet store, where he’d buy up almost all their stock of rodents at a time. It hadn’t exactly been fun the first time he’d done it, but now it was downright terrible.

“You again,” said the owner. She was a short, round brunette in her midforties, and for the last few weeks she’d been greeting Eddie not with a smile but with a suspicious glare over the top of her silver-framed glasses.

“Uh,” Eddie said. “Yeah.”

“What’d you say you’re doing this for again?”

“A kind of public safety thing.” It was sort of true. The more nonhuman brains Venom ate, the fewer headless corpses they left in back alleys and dumpsters. “It’s hard to explain.”

“You feeding reptiles or something? We got pinky mice, you know. Pre-killed are actually safer for the pet.”

 **Dead meat** , Venom growled with disgust.

Eddie hoped his smile read as polite and not _amused-by-the-voice-in-my-head_. “Nah, that’s okay. Just the usual.”

When they got back to the apartment, cardboard box of skittering creatures in hand, Venom didn’t even wait for Eddie to lock the door behind them before he was taking over the driver’s seat and digging in.

 _Oh, come on_ , Eddie said. _You had two muggers the other night. You can’t be that hungry._

Venom didn’t answer, too busy, and when he finally relinquished control, Eddie was left staring into a box of bloody, decapitated rodents. He didn’t know why this always made him gag when the humans didn’t. Something about the number of bodies left behind, maybe.

“Can’t you eat anything but the heads? There’s still hearts, livers, lungs… It’s a waste, and now I’ve got to throw it all away.”

He’d barely finished before there was a tightness in his chest, and blackness branched out from near his sternum. The tip bulged, forming Venom’s milky eyes and fearsome teeth, and it slithered into the box, scooped up a rat corpse, and ate it in a single gulp.

Eddie felt nothing, no ghostly swallowing sensation or anything like that, but he ducked his head and gagged all the same. Venom slunk back out of the cardboard and hovered in front of him, grinning. Eddie could feel Venom’s amusement, like a bass beat somewhere just below his ribs.

“I’m gonna be puking some of that up later, aren’t I?”

 **Mm. We’ll see** , said Venom.

 

* * *

 

For the first few days after they were rejoined, Venom seemed content to ride along in Eddie’s body as a simple observer. He asked questions sometimes—about whether something could be food, usually—but most often he was quiet, speaking up only when Eddie poked him with a worried _Hey, you’re still there, right?_

Soon, though, Venom started forming opinions.

He thought that automated doors were pointless (Eddie explained that people with certain disabilities would disagree), that vending machines were ingenious (Eddie agreed but had to repeatedly talk him out of breaking them and stealing all their contents), and that the internet was baffling yet riveting (which…fair enough).

He was amused when he understood why Eddie had taken to assigning him male pronouns and even more amused when Eddie offered to stop.

 **So much meaning that humans have assigned to a meaningless concept** seemed to sum up his thoughts on gender.

Eddie couldn’t exactly argue with that, and so he didn’t. He went back to scrubbing the toilet. He’d never actually ended up soiling it with rat parts, but the threat of it had made him realize how gross the bowl was and how unpleasant it would be if he ever ended up hunched over the thing for any significant amount of time.

“I could call you ‘they.’ Or ‘it.’ Something else if you want. ‘Xe’?”

**You are equally attracted to what you call ‘men’ as ‘women,’ but you have connected primarily with ‘women’ in the past.**

“You mean the people I dated?” Eddie had never really thought about it before. “It’s statistics, I guess. There are a greater number of women interested in men than men interested in men, so…”

Then there was the issue of fear and stigma, not wanting to be the guy who misjudged and got beaten by a homophobe for daring to flirt, but that was harder to explain. He mentally shoved a few things at Venom and hoped he got the picture.

He was never sure how effective any of his attempts at mental communication were, but Venom made a thoughtful humming noise like whatever Eddie had managed this time was at least somewhat useful.

“You never answered me about the pronouns.”

Eddie got another drift of amusement from Venom. A sort of _you-silly-humans-with-your-silly-ideas_ eye roll.

**‘He’ is acceptable. If Eddie is male, then we are male.**

Eddie pondered the _we_ for a moment, but decided to leave it at that. “Okay then.”

 

* * *

 

Dan worked late on Wednesdays—well, to be fair, as a doctor, he worked late often, but on Wednesdays he actually intended to—so it was on Wednesdays that Eddie and Anne had a standing dinner date.

Except not a _date_ , obviously. It was friendly. They kept to their sides of the table, didn’t steal food off each other’s plates, and avoided anything that could be construed as flirtatious. The first few times had been awkward, sure, but now it was surprisingly easy to hang out with her, to talk to her, and not get sucked into a dark pit of endless _look-at-how-I-fucked-everything-up_ thoughts.

Anne wanted pasta tonight, so they went to an Italian restaurant. Venom was vehemently Not a Fan of Italian, but he was blessedly quiet about it, letting Eddie enjoy his ziti with only one sulky **Not enough meat.**

 _Less_ dead _meat_ , Eddie reminded him.

 **Dead meat is better than no meat.** Then Venom shushed him when he tried to respond. **We are here for** **Anne.**

Yeah, they were, and Anne was talking about Dan. She usually was. She liked him, a lot.

“Hang on,” Eddie said, catching up to the conversation. “He still hasn’t moved in? But you gave him a key. He’s there every time I call.” Which, granted, was not often, because Eddie figured no one wanted an ex who couldn’t take a hint, but still.

She shrugged one shoulder, swirling her pasta on her fork. “His last relationship fell apart because they moved too fast. We’re taking it slower.”

Eddie wasn’t sure he liked that. Dan was a good guy, sure, but Anne deserved _the best_. “So what, he’s got commitment issues? He thinks you guys should be moving on his terms and not—”

Anne laughed, looking at Eddie across the table with her big brown eyes. “I’m a big girl, Eddie. He and I talked, and we both prefer it this way right now. It hasn’t been a year yet since you and I ended things, you know. I like having the space too.”

It _hadn’t_ been a year, Eddie realized. Close, only another month or two until the day Anne had stood on the sidewalk with fury and hurt in her eyes as she’d given his ring back. It felt like longer. It felt like _ages_ since they’d been together and talking about getting married.

“Well,” he said, “I’m just saying. If he ever needs a kick in the ass to remind him what a good thing he has, I’m good for it. And I’ve got Venom now too. We can pack a hell of a punch.”

The conversation stayed with him after dinner, scrolling in the background of his mind as he took the long way back to his apartment by foot. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, though, and eventually, he realized it wasn’t him who was stuck on it—it was Venom.

Eddie gave him a little poke, and Venom admitted, almost petulantly, **We didn’t even try to win her back. Now we’ve given up.**

“Trying to ‘win’ a girl back is kinda…” Eddie packaged a bunch of thoughts on toxic masculinity and the long, grim history of men treating women like commodities, and passed that across to Venom. “She’s moved on. Now it’s my turn.”

**She hasn’t. When I joined with her, I felt her fondness for you. She is still drawn to you, despite Dan.**

That was news to Eddie, yet now—with the distance he’d gained in the last few months—it didn’t seem significant. Even if he and Anne got back together, what Eddie had done would hang over them. Even if Anne could somehow forget how he had gotten her fired and damaged her reputation, without a thought for how his actions could affect her, Eddie would never be able to.

 **Ah** , Venom said suddenly. **We don’t want her back. That is different.**

It wasn’t, since Eddie’s desires didn’t trump Anne’s. But this was Venom he was talking to, who, despite all the progress he’d made, still didn’t understand why Eddie wouldn’t let him eat every unfamiliar human who crossed their path. Eddie decided to accept an easy victory where he could get it.

“Yeah. So, no more talk about winning Anne back.”

 

* * *

 

In retrospect, visiting a pet store for Venom’s snacks probably didn’t help the whole _no-that-guy’s-dog-is-not-food_ lesson Eddie had been trying to teach Venom. Too bad he didn’t realize this _before_ they popped in during a special cat adoption event.

Taking advantage of the store owner’s preoccupation with other customers, Venom seized control of Eddie’s body and walked him across the room to stare into a cage of sleeping tabby kittens.

 _No_ , Eddie insisted. _We don’t eat cats. We especially don’t eat_ baby _cats._

**We should get one. We can afford it.**

_Did you not hear me just now?_

Eddie wrestled back control, relieved that Venom relinquished it fairly easily, meaning he probably wasn’t _that_ serious. Just to be safe, Eddie marched them out of the store and quieted Venom’s protests with _How about McDonald’s instead?_ He felt like a parent placating a belligerent child, but since it worked, he didn’t feel too bad about it.

He got them six large orders of McDonald’s fries, which Venom sometimes liked even more than tater tots, although only when they were fresh, crunchy, and salty.

Because Eddie’s luck was shit, as usual, these were not. They were cold and a little mushy, and Venom complained endlessly on the trip back home. It didn’t stop him from finishing off two orders of them, though, before Eddie had even reached his apartment door.

Inside, he sat on the couch and waited for Venom to rematerialize and start scarfing the rest down. But Venom only rumbled, **Eat** , from the recesses of Eddie’s brain, so Eddie dug in on his own.

**I would not eat the cat. It would be ours.**

“Ours? Like a pet?”

**Is that not what they are?**

Okay, Eddie conceded, maybe Venom had gotten the lesson. As he ate his mushy grease sticks and thought about how to respond, a swath of images flew through his mind. It was always a little like a near-death experience, every time Venom started looking through Eddie’s memories. Like his whole life was flashing before his eyes, except that in this case “his whole life” was just a bunch of interactions with Mr. Belvedere.

**You liked Anne’s cat.**

“Yeah, well, he didn’t like me.”

**He was already bonded to Anne when he met you. It will not be the same. Our cat will adore you.**

More flashes as Venom continued snooping, learning everything Eddie knew about cats, although this time they came fast enough that Eddie began to feel dizzy and had to set the fries aside.

 **We will teach him to hunt. He will bring us rodents for snacks.** The images stopped abruptly, replaced with a muted feeling of curiosity, something like the mental equivalent of a head tilt. **‘He.’ Are all cats male?**

“No. But Anne’s cat was.”

**How?**

“Look,” Eddie sighed, “I’m not explaining cat dicks to you over McDonald’s. Do you want these fries or not?”

A phantom tug came from the skin between his shoulder blades, and then Venom was oozing out and slithering around to look at Eddie. Eddie offered him a few soggy fries and smiled when Venom chomped down on them eagerly despite grumbling some more about the inferior taste.

 **You enjoyed having a cat with Anne** , Venom boomed in Eddie’s mind while he ate more. **You felt…secure.**

It was an odd way to put it, but it wasn’t exactly wrong. Eddie had felt like part of a little family, his fiancée and their cat. With Eddie in charge of feeding Mr. Belvedere and scooping his litter, Eddie had felt a sense of permanence, of belonging.

Eddie swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable with Venom’s scrutiny. “Cats are a pain,” he said. “Especially kittens. We’re not getting one.”

Surprisingly, Venom didn’t argue it any further.

 

* * *

 

Venom took masturbation to a whole new level of awesome. It seemed like an awkward thing for Eddie to think, but whenever he did, Venom basically preened and leaked schoolgirl-crush levels of flutteriness all over Eddie’s consciousness.

 **If you would let us** , Venom said, his smugness ringing like a bell in Eddie’s head, **we could do this more often.**

Eddie—with Venom’s big hand around his cock, Venom’s tongue up his ass, and Venom’s saliva all over his balls and thighs—laughed, but it quickly became a moan. The last thing he needed was Venom messing with his refractory period. Just doing it at the frequency they managed now was good enough he almost thought he could die from it.

Venom fisted his dick harder, licked at his prostate, and drooled even more on Eddie’s balls, leaving Eddie trembling and whimpering at the fullness, the sloppiness. He flailed helplessly on the bed, grabbing and wrenching at the sheets, and Venom didn’t even need to pause to summon two black tendrils to clasp Eddie’s wrists and pin them in the small of Eddie’s back.

So that when Venom formed another two tendrils to haul Eddie’s ass a little higher, giving himself more room to lick and stroke, Eddie was pretty much powerless to stop him.

Not that Eddie wanted to stop him. Not at all.

“Don’t stop,” he groaned, just to make sure Venom understood. “God, don’t stop.”

**_Never._ **

Eddie was wailing nonsense by the time he came, and in his head Venom crooned, **Good, Eddie. Very, very good.**

 

* * *

 

Venom had learned early on that Eddie could tune out pretty much any normal voice if he wanted to. But a voice booming in his own skull? Unfortunately, Eddie hadn’t figured out how to ignore that quite yet, so Venom—who hated being ignored—only ever communicated mentally now.

He’d tested out speaking mentally _and_ out loud briefly, which had taught them both something interesting: the speed of thought was actually a teensy bit faster than the speed of sound. Not enough to produce an echo effect, but enough that it came across as inexplicably _wrong_ and was jarring as all hell.

Now Venom only ever did it when he either a) wanted to be really, really annoying or b) really, really wanted Eddie to pay attention.

**“What about a rabbit?”**

Eddie jolted upright, ruining his already-shitty attempt at meditation. It put him face-to-face with Venom, who was hovering above Eddie with his big head and elongated neck and grinning like nothing amused him more than making Eddie uncomfortable.

“What?”

**“A rabbit.”**

Eddie recoiled with an exaggerated grimace. “Stop that. I’m listening. What about a rabbit?”

Grin widening, exposing more of his gleaming, needle-sharp teeth, Venom dove closer but thankfully complied. **As a pet. Instead of the cat.**

“A…” That was random, Eddie thought. “Why? Have you ever even seen a rabbit?” He couldn’t remember the last time _he’d_ seen a rabbit.

 **At the Life Foundation. The tests began with rabbits, before human hosts were introduced.** Venom’s head cocked to one side, like he was delving into a cherished memory. **Their intelligence was limited, but they were…furry. And small.**

Eddie wondered what had happened to Venom’s rabbit hosts but decided it was maybe better if he didn’t know. “I don’t want a rabbit.”

Venom deflated. Literally deflated, shrinking in size and sagging lower until his chin was on Eddie’s thigh. But he must have at least sensed the honesty in Eddie’s statement because he didn’t try to argue, just said **Fine** sullenly before he melted back into Eddie’s body.

“We don’t need a pet,” Eddie insisted. “Besides, I don’t think the landlord even allows them in the building.”

**We will eat the landlord if he complains.**

Eddie didn’t mean to, but he laughed and was rewarded with a glow of satisfaction from Venom. “You remember that I can’t even keep a plant alive, right?” He gestured toward where the plant had sat. It had taken weeks for him to finally give up and toss the withered, rotting thing in the garbage. “That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.”

**You keep us alive.**

Eddie sucked in a breath to retaliate, but…well, it was true. In at least some ways, Venom was probably harder to take care of than a pet. He ate a lot more, for one, and some of that food had to be hunted and then disposed of so that no one thought he was a serial killer (which, technically, he supposed he was…).

**You care fiercely and indiscriminately. You sacrifice for the good of humans you have never met.**

“Eugh, stop.” Eddie rubbed at his forehead, uncomfortable. “Don’t get sappy about this. I’m not Captain America.”

Something pinched between his shoulder blades, and then Venom was winding three black tendrils around him and nuzzling their cheeks together. Venom’s tongue swiped at Eddie’s jaw, leaving a slobbery trail behind that made Eddie chuckle.

**“You are not. You are better. A perfect match for us.”**

Eddie almost didn’t mind that Venom was doing the thing again, speaking out loud and in Eddie’s head. He got that Venom was trying to emphasize it, to make sure that Eddie was listening.

And there was something about Venom calling him _perfect_. Not perfect in general, which would’ve been a crock of shit, but perfect for Venom, for _them_. It made Eddie feel warm like he’d never been before. Triumphant. Untouchable.

“Still no to the rabbit,” Eddie said, and Venom hissed and slobbered on him some more.

 

* * *

 

Eddie dreamed a lot about death these days. It made sense—since he had died and all, and would have stayed dead without Venom—but he still could have done without it.

It wasn’t even himself dying most nights. It was Anne or Eddie’s new boss or random people from high school, even Mr. Belvedere on occasion. Most commonly, though, it was Venom. Burning to death, starving to death, being ripped from Eddie’s body and tortured.

Tonight, it was being bonded to Eddie that was killing Venom. Some inexplicable quirk of Eddie’s physiology that was poisoning Venom slowly, painfully, making him wither and waste away, and no matter how much Eddie pleaded for him to go, to find another host, Venom wouldn’t do it.

Then, suddenly, Venom was already dead, and Eddie was just…carrying him around, a decaying alien corpse somewhere in his body that he could _feel_ , like a heavy rock taking up space that should have been Venom’s.

Eddie was crying in the dream, and when he startled awake, he thought for a moment he was still crying. He was breathing erratically, and his head had that cottony, congested feeling. But it faded as he sat there, taking stock.

Just a dream. All of it was just a dream.

**Eddie? Eddie, we are okay. We are safe.**

Black oozed out of Eddie’s skin and covered nearly every inch of him like a blanket. Only his head was left exposed, so he could watch when Venom’s head formed and twisted around so they were face-to-face.

Eddie was hardly going to complain about being coddled now. He relished Venom’s embrace, Venom’s presence, rolled his shoulders and shifted his limbs to better experience the hold Venom had on him.

“Did you catch any of that?” Eddie asked. Venom tended not to eavesdrop on Eddie’s dreams, finding them too confusing and pointless to be worth the effort, although depending on how distressed they made Eddie, sometimes all bets were off.

 **Parts of it, yes.** Venom’s head dipped so it could slot perfectly under Eddie’s chin and nuzzle the sensitive skin of Eddie’s throat. The sensation might’ve been erotic at another time, but now it was just comforting, familiar. **You cannot hurt us. Even if we were incompatible, you could not damage us.**

“I know that.” Just as Eddie knew, logically, that _he_ was the one at greater risk in their host-symbiote relationship, not Venom. Hell, Venom had proven that himself by accidentally eating Eddie’s organs at the very beginning. “But sometimes fears aren’t really logical.”

There was movement behind Eddie’s back, and then something that felt like hands were sifting through his hair. For a moment, he pondered what the hell he must look like right now, covered in black goo with tentacle hands in his hair and a head under his chin—but it didn’t matter. It felt good. He closed his eyes and relaxed into Venom.

 **You are mine** , Venom murmured, his voice a low, soothing roll in Eddie’s mind. **Nothing will take me from you, as nothing will take you from me.**

It was basically nonsense, Eddie knew. Neither of them could make any sort of guarantees when they didn’t know what else this crazy-ass universe had in store for them. But it helped, somehow. The reminder of Venom’s loyalty. The confirmation that Venom was as tangled up in Eddie as Eddie was in him.

“Why are they never tentacle sex dreams?” Eddie grumbled. “I have a literal alien in me who can form tentacles, and yet after all these months, I haven’t had one dream about tentacle sex.”

Venom chuckled—mentally and aloud, so Eddie could feel the rumble against his throat. **Do you want tentacle sex, Eddie? That can be easily fixed.**

And since Eddie was a huge proponent of _fuck-_ all _-the-problems-away_ , he answered eagerly, “Go for it.”

 

* * *

 

They bought Mrs. Chen out of chocolate every time they dropped in.

Eddie had been reticent, at the beginning, to devote half his diet to chocolate just because Venom liked the stuff. But then Venom explained about the phenethylamine and his own dietary requirements, and Eddie changed his mind pretty quick.

So, they emptied Mrs. Chen’s chocolate stock—and every other store’s in the vicinity—on a weekly basis. Eventually she started stocking extra and keeping it behind the counter. Hershey, Dove, Lindt, Ghirardelli, even a few foreign luxury brands that cost about four times as much—and which Venom enjoyed four times as much too, so Eddie considered it a fair deal.

He suspected that Mrs. Chen’s profits had increased in the months since Venom had come into their lives, which might have been the reason she perked up every time they visited.

Part of the reason, anyway.

“Hey, Eddie,” she said as Eddie trudged into the shop. “Your _friend_ still around?”

She said it like she meant a lover Eddie was ashamed of—complete with a significant _you-and-I-both-know-that’s-not-what-he-is_ look—but since at least it wasn’t _parasite_ , Eddie didn’t mind. It was kind of accurate, anyway, given the number of times that week alone that Venom had fucked Eddie to an orgasm that left him a shaking, sobbing wreck in their bed.

“Yeah, Mrs. Chen.”

And, as always, out came the paper, which she scooted across the counter for Eddie to take. It was a list of names, sometimes with descriptions, sometimes with addresses, sometimes with neither. These people, Eddie knew from experience, could range from a guy who’d gotten handsy with one of her cousins to someone everyone knew not to leave their kids alone with.

Eddie took the paper with some trepidation, even as Venom purred and squirmed excitedly inside him.

“This one”—Mrs. Chen tapped one of the names with her finger—“a customer told me about. Sweet girl. Guy at work asked her out, she said no, and he started following her.”

Venom bullied his way to the controls and said, in Eddie’s voice, “He will die.”

“No!” Eddie said, shoving Venom back where he belonged. He stole a quick glance around, but thankfully the store was empty. “Not… We’ll look into it. That’s all.”

Mentally, he scolded, _We’re not her personal hit man_.

 **Not _yet_.** Venom was practically gnashing his teeth and drooling in anticipation. Eddie supposed to him it was kind of like browsing a menu at a restaurant.

And Eddie had to hand it to Mrs. Chen: she’d proven to be a good judge of character. If someone struck her as dangerous enough to offer them up to a man-eating alien, then so far at least they usually were.

Eddie folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket, and when he glanced up again, Mrs. Chen was watching him carefully.

“You look…” She narrowed her eyes, apparently searching for the words.

“Like shit?” Eddie guessed.

But what she decided on was “Good,” and even she seemed a little surprised by it. “You look happy. Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

Venom took advantage of Eddie’s shock to commandeer the controls again. “We intend to,” he said, and Eddie could _feel_ his pride. For making Eddie happy, for improving Eddie’s life, for the fact that he had done it so successfully everyone could see it.

 _Get us some chocolate_ , Eddie said, relaxing inside himself, letting Venom stay in the driver’s seat for now. _Then take us home so we can start looking into these people._

 

* * *

 

Eddie was pretty _whatever_ about strip clubs. On one hand, it was great to support women who regularly got shit on by society for daring to make a living, but on the other, staring at near-naked strangers tended to make him feel awkward.

Now, though, he had a mission. It turned out that the girl Mrs. Chen mentioned was a stripper and the guy following her was a customer. And one who, if tonight’s behavior was any indication, didn’t even bother to tip—a big strike against him in Eddie’s book.

He was a scrawny guy, pale with brown hair and a goatee. As he sat alone at his little table, nursing a beer and peering intently at the girl dancing on stage, he gave off some heavy entitled-douchebag, MAGA vibes, which was another, even bigger strike against him.

 **Bad guy?** Venom asked. He was slithering around right under Eddie’s skin, eager to take over. **Food?**

 _Maybe._ If nothing else, Eddie figured they could scare the guy a little, maybe forcefully guide him toward rethinking his approach to women.

“Can I get you another?”

Eddie spun on his stool, glanced at the bartender and then his own beer bottle, which he’d barely touched. “Uh. Not just yet, thanks.”

But rather than going back to her work, the bartender rested her elbows on the bar top and gave Eddie her full attention. “You’re not like the usual guys we get in here.”

She was pretty, Eddie thought. Tall and curvy, with smooth dark skin and curly hair. She was older than him, maybe late forties, and she had a presence about her, a confidence that made Eddie want to sit up straight and fall in line.

His type, in other words.

“Yeah?” He forced a laugh and rubbed the back of his head, hoping it came across as charming.

 **Are we going to sleep with her?** Venom sounded more curious than anything, which distracted Eddie momentarily from the fact that he knew what _sleep with_ meant when Eddie was sure he’d never used that euphemism with Venom.

 _You wouldn’t mind?_ Eddie asked.

Venom hesitated, and he stopped his restless slithering, his energy dwindling. **We want what Eddie wants.**

But something about his tone struck Eddie as uncertain, a sentiment that he realized he shared. Attractive, confident woman or not, Eddie was already pretty damn committed to the symbiote riding around in his body. Between the hunting and the feeding and the hours of half-internal conversation and the tentacles and everything else, when would Eddie even have time for another person?

 _We don’t want this_ , he decided, and turned his attention back to the bartender, going for sheepishness and embarrassment this time. “I’m, uh…kinda having a crisis of sexuality.”

As soon as the words were out, he thought they sounded stupid—what sort of moron came to a strip club to try to convince themselves they were straight?—but the bartender’s expression cleared, her interest becoming something more sympathetic.

“Ah,” she said. “Guess that explains why you’re so interested in Jared over there. Although—” Her lips thinned, and her tone darkened. “—you’d do better to stay away from him. Trust me on that.”

 **Yes** , Venom hissed, perking up again. **Bingo.**

Eddie echoed him and leaned against the bar, trying not to act too eager. “Oh yeah? Why, did he do something?”

 

* * *

 

Eddie dreamed about fire, blistering and charring his flesh. He withstood it, knowing the even worse damage it could do if Venom tried to protect him, but Venom didn’t care. Venom was oozing to the surface, masking him, determined to defend Eddie even if it killed him.

Then, abruptly, the fire was gone, replaced by the simple glow of warmth on Eddie’s skin. Something licked at him, not a flame but a literal tongue. Eddie melted under it, let it stroke him, taste him, get him nice and slick and so, so sensitive.

He spread his legs for it, moaned as it swiped over his hole and shoved inside. He knew that tongue. Knew the dark tendrils that wrapped around him like ribbons and the pleased rumble in his head when he breathed, “Venom.”

**Eddie.**

He came awake slowly and found himself in bed, the covers thrown off, Venom eating his ass with a single-minded focus that made Eddie’s thighs tremble. As he undulated with a keening cry, something wet slipped over the tip of his cock and started to stroke. It felt like a mouth, sucking him sweetly down.

“You changed my dream,” Eddie said, and would have continued but for the tentacle tracing his lips, asking for entrance. He obliged, and it sank so deep into his throat he couldn’t stop himself from gagging and tearing up.

**I did. Better?**

_Yes._ Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and gave himself over completely. _God, yes._

 

* * *

 

It was odd for Venom to be so quiet in the morning. Because his need for sleep was significantly lower than Eddie’s, he greeted Eddie’s return to consciousness most mornings a little like a dog who hadn’t seen their owner all day. He jockeyed for Eddie’s attention, tried to distract Eddie from whatever he had to do, and provided detailed updates on the current state of his hunger.

Today, though, he left Eddie mostly alone. Eddie could still feel him, churning and churning in Eddie’s mind almost like he was anxious about something, but he didn’t say much.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie said. His words were garbled around the toothbrush in his mouth, but of course Venom didn’t need any help understanding.

 **Wrong?** Venom sounded exaggeratedly clueless. **Why would anything be wrong?**

“Wow.” Eddie spat into the sink and rinsed out his mouth. “Your innocent routine could use some work, babe.”

The pet name was new, a total accident at first, but Venom responded so positively to it—like he did now, flooding Eddie with endorphins followed by that warm fuzzy feeling of contentment—that Eddie’d decided to keep using it.

“Do we need to talk about something?”

**Well…**

He was interrupted by a noise from the bathroom door. Which, now that Eddie thought about it, he had no memory of closing and in fact _never_ closed when he was just brushing his teeth.

“Did you shut the d—”

The noise came again. Scratching. Something sharp scraping at the wood. It was a surprisingly familiar sound, one Eddie remembered from when he’d lived with Anne.

**Don’t be angry. She was hungry and alone.**

Eddie opened the door.

The cat was short-haired, black, and pathetically thin. It trotted into the bathroom and wound between Eddie’s legs, looking up at him beseechingly with bright green eyes.

“Venom,” Eddie said, feeling oddly calm, “where did it come from?”

**‘She.’ I found her in the alley outside. She was crying, so I brought her inside and fed her dead meat.**

The only meat they currently had in the apartment was the rotisserie chicken in the fridge, so at least the cat wouldn’t get sick from uncooked meat. If that was a thing that cats did.

Eddie didn’t actually know a whole lot about cats, he realized. He’d just…done what Anne had told him.

“Why were you outside?”

 **You were asleep. Our body was not being used.** No doubt sensing Eddie’s spike of hurt—at being left behind, at his body just being a thing to be used—Venom hastened to add, **It is the only time we have done this. Earth isn’t as interesting without Eddie, and Eddie’s body needs rest. But we could hear her crying, and we were…curious.**

He sent Eddie a snippet of sound, a very, very distant yowling that Eddie didn’t think he’d be able to identify if he didn’t already know what it was.

And the cat had to have been _really fucking upset_ if Venom could hear her all the way up here, no matter how superior Venom’s senses might be.

Eddie knelt down and extended his hand, and the cat rose up onto her back paws so she could headbutt it, her little eyes going squinty with pleasure. Eddie could feel the poor thing’s bones jutting out under her skin. If the cat had an owner, she had either been separated from them for a very, very long time, or they were a neglectful piece of shit.

 **Ours now** , Venom insisted.

Rolling his eyes, Eddie picked up the cat gingerly and stood. “No, not ‘ours now.’ She could be lost. She might have a microchip. And anyway, we’re not getting a cat. Remember?”

**She came to us. Look at her, Eddie. She already adores you.**

The cat was purring up a storm in Eddie’s arms, that was true. She seemed perfectly content to be carried out of the bathroom and through the rest of the apartment.

Fortunately, the place didn’t stink of cat piss or shit, although he found the entire rotisserie chicken on the kitchen floor with a small pile of torn-off, cat-size pieces beside it. A short distance away, a glass had been tipped over, spilling water all over.

**It was how she preferred to drink.**

“Seriously?” Eddie bent to let the cat go and went to round up towels. “A symbiote and a cat. How did this become my life?”

**We thought up a name for her while you slept.**

“Did you.”

**Venom.**

It took a moment for Eddie to get it. He barked out a laugh as he plopped down to mop up the mess. “No. Just…no. No one’s naming her Venom. I know she’s black, but—”

**And she has your eyes. She’s ours.**

Venom sounded so deeply, deeply pleased about that that it brought Eddie up short. He couldn’t even bring himself to point out that, sure, Eddie might’ve had a greenish tint to his eyes, but they were nowhere near the brilliant pure-green shade of the cat’s.

And Venom must’ve understood that he’d just scored himself a partial point, because he kept going, picking up steam. **She is an adult, so she will not be a pain. She is malnourished, but we will feed her and take care of her. She was alone and lonely. A loser among her species, like us. A perfect match for us.**

 _Oh_ , Eddie thought, momentarily stunned. Why did that _hurt_ so much? Like Venom had just reached directly into Eddie’s rib cage, grabbed his heart, and squeezed. Venom’s emotions were right there, just skimming the surface of their joint consciousness, and Eddie couldn’t have ignored them if he wanted to.

Venom wanted permanence and belonging. Venom wanted the human sense of family. Venom wanted Eddie to love and need him as much as Venom loved and needed Eddie. Venom wanted Eddie to just accept the damn cat as _theirs_ already and stop being difficult about everything.

Eddie swallowed thickly, knowing that he was probably leaking emotions right back at Venom and that so many of them were almost perfect echoes of Venom’s.

The cat was sitting across the room, watching him curiously, and she blinked cutely at Eddie when their eyes met.

“We’re not naming her Venom,” Eddie said, going back to cleaning up the spilled water. “That’s just weird.”

**But we will name her? She is ours?**

“We’ll see.”

Eddie had barely gotten the words out before Venom was emerging in a black glob from Eddie’s shoulders and throwing a bunch of smoky-looking tendrils around Eddie’s chest. Despite himself, Eddie chuckled and let himself be hugged.

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, babe.”


End file.
